Man in the Mirror
by Chocolate-Covered-Coffee-Beans
Summary: [Post series] The fire died down, but still clung to the edges of the mirror in blurry whisps. I gazed into it hopefully. It was his eyes that stared back into mine. Not my own. [Celena centric][oneshot]


**Man in the Mirror**

_**Summary:** Post series The fire died down, but still clung to the edges of the mirror. I gazed into it hopefully. It was his eyes that stared back into mine. Not my own. Celena centricone-shot_

_**Warnings: **Kinda morbid. Read at your discretion._

_**A/N:** Don't know why I wrote this. Guess I was just in the mood to write something about Celena. She had such a small role in the series, but I've always been interested in her story. Anyhoo, enjoy!_

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It was the picture of a gloomy day, I noted with a wry smile. I silently wished the sun would push the clouds away. All of them. Perhaps it would ease the tension. Help me forget that I too felt as gloomy as the day looked, if only for a moment. I would be able to go outside then. Walk along the docks if I so cared to. Pretend I'm just another silly girl. I could put ribbons in my hair, blue to match my eyes, and run along the ocean's shore until I'm deliriously breathless. It would be a nice feeling, I know that. But, I can't submit myself to such foolish thoughts. Eries is right. I should keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.

And face my demons.

Her keen eyes locked onto me, I saw her head turn ever so slightly. She had caught me staring out the rain-streaked window. She pulled the thick drapes closed before I could say anything. I glanced down at my hands, and quickly hid them behind myself.

"Celena," She spoke kindly, understanding and sympathy in her tone. I'm very fond of her. She has treated me with nothing but kindness and patience.

"Yes?" I dared not look at her.

Crystalline eyes softened, peering down her stern nose at me. She gently plucked my hands out from behind me, examining them thoughtfully, mouth forming into a frown. I cringed. "Again." She whispered, letting my hand drop. I flushed, mortified. Hiding my hands in my skirts, I held my breath. My fingernails had been bitten to the quick., a habit I've acquired. I do it without thinking too much about it. Eries sighed. I bit my lower lip

I can't help it, but she seems to think otherwise. Anger boiled inside me, surging like a violent flame. I struggled to suppress it. My eyes dashed to a vase near me, hands itching to reach out to it. These feelings were almost a daily occurrence, ones which Eries has come to expect without comment. She picked the vase up, removing the temptation. I tried to control my raspy breathing. Shame filled me. She waited until I became more peaceable, until the fists I'd shaped my hands into went limp and fell listlessly to my sides.

Internally, I was screaming. Not in anger, but in self-hatred. I've hurt her before. Drew blood. Cut flesh. It scared me, for a small part of me felt no regret. No sense of wrong. I was terrified of the fact. Afraid I'd be left all alone because of it.

I never meant to. Oh no. I did not.

But she refused to toss me aside. She simply refused to abandon me. Maybe she thought I deserved a chance. I didn't think so. I know that I am a monster, but they never say it outright. I hate it. Talking in hushed voices when they think my ears won't head their words. I hear everything they say about me. The awful things they say. The sad things they say.

My eyes warmed, and I felt her arms around me, soothing away the tears. They wouldn't relent. I buried my face into the crock of her neck and wept. Her hands flowed down my back in fluid motions, quelling my whimpers.

I never wanted to hurt her. Not ever.

My breaths came in short gasps, sticky tears clinging to my face, disheveling my hair. She steadied me with her presence. A comfort I was grateful for.

What manner of beast had I become? My fingers crawled their way to my face, painfully digging into my damp cheeks. They burned my pale skin with every touch. These murderess thoughts never escape me, even in sleep. Sometimes I march out onto a blood-soaked field, laughing at the bleeding sky and rolling thunder. I laugh, yet the voice isn't mine. Sometimes, I awake to the taste of stale wine on my tongue, and other times I find my wrists rope-burned and raw. The screams produced from my mouth pound through my head. My throat felt like it had beem ripped from me.

Memories I can never recall. Horrors that I'd rather forget. A hole that I don't know how to fill. Places I've never been. Things I've never done. A life I've never lived.

Then, there's that boy. His stark silver hair frames his bony chalky face, and lays in wisps over a pair of blood-shot eyes. Somehow, I feel that I know him. His eyes are stained a rusty red, dull and almost dead. Somehow I know that he's in great pain.

I think…I would…If I was able to…I'd take that pain away.

His face is the one that's so fresh in my mind. It's fresher than my own, or my brother's.

My knees quailed violently. I could no longer command them to keep me up. Eries helped me to the ground, and didn't say anything as I stared at nothing, eyes devoid of all emotion. My eyes were dry, but my face was still streaked with moisture.

But why? Why do I know his face better than my own?

My heart slowed. I felt nothing but numbness as Eries' fingers grazed the sides of my face in a motherly gesture. Slowly the pieces of tightly curled white-blonde hair disappeared from my vision.

"Why do you do this to yourself, hmm?" She sighed, smoothing my hair back into place. "You've come so far and yet…"

I wiped my runny cheeks. She had a gift for asking me things I did not know. But, she never pushed me for an answer. Not once.

"When is…Allen coming home?" My brother. I missed him.

"He's due back in a fortnight." Her voice was confident and strong. Allen was patrolling the Ziabach/ Austuria border, despite the fact the war has long been over for quite some time. He couldn't take me with him, so he left me in Eries' care. I didn't mind. I trusted her wholeheartedly although I knew she was slightly wary of me.

I have this feeling that Allen has placed her trust in her too.

Dusk eventually came. I readied myself for bed, putting my dress neatly inside my closet. Eries normally came in after I had finished, to check that everything was done as it should, but tonight she had yet to come check on me.

I sat in front of my vanity, running an ivory comb through my equally pale hair. My movements were rough and jerky, but they were not as rough as they used to be. They had to teach me how to do things again. Like I had forgotten how to do them, and had to be reminded how to do what my brother described as 'simple' tasks. He also told me that he had lost me once, but found me again. I don't remember much of what happened or where I had been, but I was happy now. Happy to be at my brother's side again.

I can remember seeing a white dragon flying over us in a mute grey sky. And feathers. Lots and lots of feathers. It was like watching flower blossoms straying gently from a giant tree surrounded by sunny field. I remember my brother holding me tightly and my heart feeling content. What happened before that, I cannot say. They won't say. Allen told them not to talk about it. He said that he's protecting me, but he looked guilty when he told me. His eyes betray his feelings, I've found. Guilty eyes. Guilty heart.

But I don't understand. I hear the things they say sometimes and wonder if they contain some truth. Why can't I know the truth? I want to so desperately. Yet, I'm also afraid. Have I killed more than a thousand men in the heat of battle? Lay waste to entire countries? Set regions to flame? Lead a great army to war?

I don't know.

They say I recovered quickly. Things like eating, caring for myself, and being polite became easy once I had worked at them. People seemed pleased with me. However, I still struggled to control my emotions. I lashed out frequently. Physically and mentally. There was nothing I could do to stop myself. Something urged me on, took control of me.

The comb snagged a piece of my hair. Pouting, I did my best to untangle it. I felt a presence behind me; my eyes were drawn to the corner of the mirror. Through its reflection, I saw him. He was sitting at the end of my bed, face in his hands.

"Hello." I attempted a smile but it wasn't a proper one. His being here wasn't out of the ordinary. He just sat behind me, or stood, depending on his mood. Tilting his head up, he looked at me haggardly and didn't respond. I didn't mind. He rarely talked, but I always greeted him just to be polite. Eries would be proud. I continued to untangle my hair, picking at the bits of hair caught in the teeth of my comb.

"Oh, this will never come out." I confessed aloud.

A sadistic chuckle rumbled behind me. I ignored it.

"Idiot."

My cheeks flushed, and I gave the comb a hard yank. It came free, but at a price. I winced in pain. He seemed to be in a foul mood today. I frowned at him through the mirror. "Are you okay?" I asked him shyly.

As usual, he glared at me. Setting the comb down, I turned in my seat to face him, forgetting his little game. When I turn around to look at him, he vanishes. Perhaps he's just grouchy or shy. Or both. I paused mid-motion, resettling myself back into my seat. Picking my hair out of the comb, I didn't dare look up. If I remained silent, he might stay quiet as well.

"What could you possibly know about being 'okay', girl?" He seethed. I squeezed my eyes shut. Not because I was frightened by him, but because he was right.

"Well, I do know that you're not." I whispered softly, eyes still downcast.

"I could say the same for you." Came his flippant reply.

Cautiously, I dared to peek up at the mirror. He was closer to me now, standing behind my chair. This was the closest he'd ever been to me. I saw him look down at me with sad expressive eyes, saw him reach out to touch the pale curls surrounding my face. His fingers jolted back sharply before they could touch my hair, retreating back like a spooked animal.

"You're lonely, aren't you?"

He nodded slowly with hesitation.

"It's alright, you know." I smiled. "You don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."

Catching my eyes with his, he gave me a considering look. Why did he look so surprised? I saw a ghost of a smirk on his face. I laughed lightly. It was good to see an emotion on his face other than despair. As I watched his face, I noted how we contrasted each other. It was almost like looking into a silvery pond and seeing a reflection similar yet so different from my own.

"Do you really mean that?" The smirk fell, an ominous glow cloaking his eyes, rendering them to red smoke. "Even knowing what I am? You would offer me…friendship?" He chocked out the last word, mouth contorting into a grotesque but beautiful expression.

"Yes." I breathed, happiness flooding my eyes.

He went deathly quiet and lowered his head. "You're lying." Shuddering out a laugh, he stumbled back. A lock of silver hair fell over his face.

"No…I would never…" I felt hurt. His accusation stung me.

"Liar!" He shrieked, tears listlessly falling from his cheeks. "Liar! Liar! Liar!" His booming voice screamed frantically. He turned his back to me, cackling to himself. My heart longed to reach out to him, to clear his clouded vision. I almost submitted to these desires. I almost forgot about the game.

"Gatty, Miguel, Viole, Shesta, Guimel, Dalet." He mused. I swallowed a cold lump in my throat. His tone was playful, almost joyful. "They loved me once. Yes. They all did." His head swivelled slightly. I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were wild, unfocused. I bit back my tears. I would not lose him. Not now.

"Do you know what happened to them, girl? Do you even care?" His lip curled up in disgust. He ran a finger down one side of his face. A tear slowly trailed after it.

I didn't dare answer him. Keeping my eyes steady, my resolve was firm. I would stay here like this, for as long as it took him to realize that I wasn't going anywhere.

"You should care!" He barked shrilly. "They died. For me. Dead." His voice continued to raise itself. He eventually collapsed to his knees, arms useless at his sides, shaking violently.

"Don't you see? They died. The ones who loved me. Gone."

I stood abruptly, chair screeching against the floorboards. I wanted nothing more than for him to stop. He was acting childish. We had both lost loved ones. I didn't need to be reminded of what that felt like. The pain attatched to that. "Why are you saying these things to me? To frighten me?" I squared my shoulders. "I am not afraid. You shouldn't be either!" He was afraid. Afraid to accept my friendship. I clenched my fists.

He tilted his chin up to look at me. "Your knees are trembling. As is your very soul." The light in his red eyes diminished.

I blinked at the mirror, fear twisting my stomach into knots. A blaze roared before me, bloody maimed faces staring dully at me, cocking their heads to one side as if measuring my worth. The fire slowly consumed them all and the smell of rotten flesh cooking filled my nostrils. Flames swirled and spun, weaving brilliant gold-red patterns, burning purely. If I had not felt sick to my stomach, I would have enjoyed the pretty dance. My face warmed as a searing sensation enveloped me. It felt a desire to plunge myself into the heat, to feel it's warmth caress my skin. I wanted to be closer to it, and to let myself become a part of its dance.

Was this really where I belonged? A part of me told me to step closer towards the beautiful inferno, but I still hesitated. It seemed like the obvious choice, but my feet refused to move. I closed my eyes and breathed a heavy sigh.

No. I didn't belong there.

I took one step back, and opened my eyes. The mirror cracked, popping under an unknown force. My reflection smirked back at me through the broken shards, glossy and sharp. The silence that followed was deafening. I felt at peace and oddly comfortable with my decision.

I didn't belong there. My place was here.

The fire died down, but still clung to the edges of the mirror. I gazed into it hopefully. It was his eyes that stared back into mine. Not my own. My gut froze.

Then, it shattered. In an explosion of silver light.

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I remembered screaming until I couldn't scream anymore, and feeling a cold emptiness welling up inside me. Eries never came. I whimpered in pain, shaky fingers exploring my arms and face. They came away wet and sticky. Red clung to my hands. I was on my knees, and my breathing came in short shallow rasps. I couldn't stop shaking. I was so scared, so desperate.

"Eries." I croaked, tasting blood on my lips. Touching them with a gentle fingers, I tried wiping them clean. My hands were slippery, slick with the red liquid. I wiped my aching palms against my nightgown, smearing them with blotches of the runny fluid. The fabric quickly soaked up the liquid imbruing it.

Scattered around me were those crystalline shards. They were gorgeous, glowing and glittering like little sapphires, and others like bold rupees. My mouth formed a thin smile. Pretty little gems.

But where was he? What had happened to him? Did he get caught in the blaze? My heart skipped a beat.

"Come back," I moaned. "Don't leave me. I don't ever want to be alone again." My head tipped down in sorrow, but tears would not come. I was to exhausted to cry.

The shards continued to twinkle in all their glory. I slowly picked one up, holding onto it tightly as it tried slipping away from my grasp. It's sharp edges bit into me. I felt it pierce my skin, but the sensation of pain eluded me. Giddiness filled me as my head swam. I dropped my hands to the ground, scrapping, grabbing at them. I needed all of those shards. All of them. I smiled, despite the cruel task I had set myself to. I would find him again, and make him understand my sorrow like I understood his.

The tidy pile of sparkling pieces thrilled me. Pleased with my efforts, I stood to collect the mirror's frame. It clattered to the floor beside my pile. I knelt between them and quickly went to work. It was tedious at first, but it soon became easy. The pieces flowed into their places, encouraging me to press forward. I was almost half finished when I was interrupted.

Eries stood in my doorway, face paler than usual. In her arms she held the vase I wanted to throw this morning. She had filled it with white flowers. I smiled at her warmly. They were my favourite kind. "Those who will not be forgotten." I recalled the name of the flowers easily. "They're beautiful."

"C-Celena?" The vase fell from her fingers, flowers dropping lifelessly to the floorboards. She ran to my side, blue eyes terrified. I saw her looking at the mirror in horror.

"Don't worry. I'm fixing it." I rubbed the edge of my nightgown against the intertwined pieces I had already assembled. They were dirty, a congealed red, but once I had cleaned it, the mirror would be like new again.

"Your…hands. Celena, look at your hands." She gasped, wrapping her fingers around my wrist.

"It was an accident. I'm fine."

"No. You're not fine." Her eyes welled with concern. She helped me to my feet. As she lead me to the bathroom, I noticed the streaks of colour I had left on the floorboards. I frowned. She was upset with the mess, no doubt.

I sat down in the chair as she instructed. She produced a damp cloth and gently cleansed my face. Her fingers trembled. I protested that I already had washed before retiring, but she wouldn't hear anything of it. The cloth burned with each pass it made over my skin, but I endured the sting, grinding my teeth together. She washed my hands in a basin, and towel-dried them carefully. The basin water was a murky rust colour when she had finished. She bandaged my hands, sighing wearily when I smiled at her.

After, she handed me a small mirror, regarding me solemnly. I snatched it from her greedily. My gaze searched for any traces of him, but I found none. Instead, I saw a face covered with countless nicks and cuts. My face.

"What happened?" Eries asked softly, eyes warm.

"The mirror fell. It broke, but I tried to fix it." I touched the side of my face. A long slender arc curved its way down my cheek, marring it. Strange, the cut didn't look that fresh.

"Did it fall on you?" She pursued further.

"No." I whispered. "It didn't."

She rubbed my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. I blinked, an image of a beast-man coming to me, gold curls falling past his shoulders fluttered. I knew him somehow, though I don't recall where I met him. "I want to believe you, Celena. I also want to believe that you can pull through." She told me, eyes level to mine. "You make things difficult at times, but we simply must not give up."

I nodded and smiled at her. She reminded me of that beast-man. That was a good thing. At least, I thought so. Maybe I was wrong, but I doubted it.

"You'll be sleeping in the other guest room tonight. I'll have your room cleaned in the morning." She smiled back.

"Okay."

I haven't seen him since that day. Strange, I feel closer to him now than I ever did before. I hope that wherever he is, he finds peace. He deserves that at least, for all the suffering he's been through. Perhaps I'll see him again someday. I can only hope.

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**_A/N:_** _Reviews are welcome!_


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